The Truth
by rogueandkurt
Summary: Splinter always knew the day would come when his sons left behind childish things. He just hoped this wasn't it. Oneshot. Semi MikeyCentric. Nominated for 'Best Splinter Scene' in Stealthy Stories '2007 TMNT Fanfiction Competition'.


Hey, I'm back with my first Ninja Turtles fic. Well, technically my second - I was working on the other one when this one popped into my head... Anyways, this is a mostly-Mikey-centric-but-featuring-all-turtles-as-children fic (which is strange, because the other fic - soon to be posted - is also Mikey-centric, and he's the last turtle I expected to write about). Yes, I am babbling.

Alright, on with the fic. And, as always, please review! I love to hear feedback, good or bad!

(P.S. - I have no idea if the turtles would celebrate Christmas or not, but it's fiction, so just go with it!)

Disclaimer: The TMNT are the property of MIRAGE and Eastman/Laird. Not me.

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"Sensei?" 

Splinter glanced up from the food he had been preparing at the kitchen table and found himself faced with all four of his young sons, each of them stealing uncertain glances at their father. Inwardly, the mutated rodent sighed - the six-year-old turtles had been playing so peacefully together for the past two hours, after a morning of tantrums and arguments, and he had hoped that the stillness would last at least until dinner. Apparently luck was not with him this December morning as he adopted his most patient look and surveyed the children before him.

"What is it, Leonardo?" Splinter addressed the turtle that had spoken. The oldest turtle seemed to wrestle with his nerve, glancing back at his brothers with apprehension. An encouraging nod from Donatello seemed to reassure him of his mission as the group's spokesperson and he turned to his father once more, determination evident on his face. Splinter held back a smile at his children's peculiar behaviour, realizing from their serious expressions that it would not be received well.

"Sensei ... Donnie says..." he paused, his six-year-old mind struggling to find the right words, before finally deciding to take a deep breath and spit it all out. "We were talking 'bout Christmas, an' Mikey asked how Santa flies aroun' the world in a night, an' Raphie said it was 'cuz he's real fast, but Donnie said his books said it wasn' _possible_ to go that fast an' _I _asked how he did it, then, an' Donnie didn't know, an' Raph said his books was wrong, but Donnie said that maybe Santa _doesn't _go everywhere in a night, an' that he'd been tryin' to work out lotsa stuff abou' Santa that didn' make sense, and he thought that maybe Santa wasn' _real_, and I said we should ask you 'bout it."

Donatello looked up at his father, guilt and fear evident in his deep brown eyes at what he may have accidentally discovered, but remained otherwise silent. The other turtles waited with baited breath for Splinter's response to Leonardo's difficult and roundabout dilemma.

"What exactly do you wish to know?" Splinter questioned, surprised when it was Raphael who answered.

"We wanna know... if Santa is really real or not," The second-oldest turtle replied after a slight hesitation. "We wanna know da truth."

Splinter looked over each of his sons, noting their growing worry and fear at what they were about to learn. The ninja master sighed. He knew his children were growing up, knew that it was natural and even necessary that they begin to question the world around them, but some part of him longed for them to remain youthful and innocent forever. Surely six years old was too young an age to become acquainted with the cruel understanding that childhood beliefs such as Santa Claus were fallacies. He had hoped to put off such truths for as long as possible, enjoying the sparkle of wonderment in their eyes as they gazed upon presents that had 'magically' appeared Christmas morning beneath the shriveled plant that served as their tree.

"My sons," he began, attempting to stall the moment when he'd be forced to answer and crush their hopes. "You are certain you wish to know the truth?"

The children glanced at one another, considering their father's inquiry. Splinter was grateful that they were thinking it over, some part of him still hoping that they would merely shake their heads and return to their games as if the question had never been posited, relieving him from the duty of being the one to shatter their world. There was silence as the young turtles pondered and deliberated within themselves. Michelangelo seemed to struggle the hardest, caught between desperately wanting to know the truth and fearing the answer he would receive. Leonardo took a moment to look at each of his brothers in turn, waiting for their nod of agreement, before turning back to his father.

"We're sure, Sensei." he replied, his voice small, as if he already suspected the answer.

Splinter sighed again, regretting the blow he was about to deal his young ones, but knowing he had no other choice.

"The truth, my sons, is that _I _am Santa Claus," replied the rat with a heavy heart. "It is I who leaves the gifts out for you on Christmas morning."

The ninja master's heart broke as he watched each of his sons' faces fall in disappointment at his answer. He felt as if he had destroyed a piece of each of them in that moment, and wondered if they could ever forgive him for it.

Raphael's eyes filled with tears, no longer able to look at his father's face as he tried unsuccessfully to hide it. Beside him, Leonardo stared at the bundle of food on the kitchen table, doing his best to control and hide his emotions as his father had taught him. Donatello bit his quivering lip, his eyes blinking and flickering rapidly as his studious mind attempted to compute this new piece of information. Splinter had anticipated all of these reactions, each one displaying the personality of the turtle who exhibited it. As his eyes fell on his youngest son, however, he was surprised to see neither tears nor blatant disappointment. The small turtle was sucking his thumb in concentration, a habit Splinter had been trying to rid him of for some time, and his face had adopted a small frown, as if he were struggling to understand something that simply did not make sense. Splinter was beginning to wonder if his son had had trouble comprehending his answer and was considering adding a further explanation when it seemed as if Michelangelo wished to speak.

Splinter waited for him to put his thoughts in order, anticipating denial or even anger from his most imaginative son. Instead, the young terrapin fixed his father with a determined look.

"Where's your reindeer, Sen-say?" Michelangelo challenged, his crystal blue eyes holding Splinter's aged ones. It was the father's turn to frown, this time in confusion, at his son's strange response to this earth-shattering news.

The old rat blinked, before hesitantly replying.

"I have no reindeer, Michelangelo."

This appeared to be the answer the young turtle had been hoping for, a triumphant smile adorning his face.

"Then you _can't _be Santa," he stated, matter-of-factly, the light of victory in his sparkling eyes. Around him, his brothers immediately brightened as they pondered this previously unconsidered yet seemingly flawless piece of logic.

Splinter watched mutely as, all at once, things were as they had been. His sons gathered around their youngest brother - Leonardo patting him on the back and Donatello congratulating him for his brilliant reasoning while Raphael wiped the tears from his eyes, smiling with relief. The sparkle of innocence was brighter than even before in their young eyes, their world righted once more, and he could do little else but stare as they bowed and retreated back to the living room without a second thought to what had just transpired.

The father shook his head and turned back to his task, amazed and grateful for the ferocity with which his young ones clung to their childhood beliefs. One day - all too soon, he feared - his sons would come to learn the harsh truths of the world. But for now, all of them were blissfully content with the lie.

_fin._

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How was that? Incidentally, this fic is based on real-life events (apparently, this is how I reacted the first time I heard that the tooth fairy wasn't real; when my mother was unable to produce wings as proof, however, I just smiled triumphantly and went back to playing). 

Like it? Hate it? Let me know - please review!

Thanks for reading!!

Keep Smiling! ;)

rogueandkurt


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